


Volatile Times

by Kymopoleia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 02:01:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kymopoleia/pseuds/Kymopoleia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fic about Dean's time in the pit. Written from knowledge in s4e11</p>
            </blockquote>





	Volatile Times

**Author's Note:**

> i just kind of paused at the beginning of s4e11 and wrote this... haha?

The screams that echo through the pit, the rack, aren't yours. Your vocal cords were ripped out much earlier in the day. But if you could, you'd be screaming. Screaming for relief, screaming for Sammy. God, you miss him.

Everything hurts. There are giant bronze hooks in your shoulder, stomach, and calf- oh god, your calf. Just remembering each part of you makes it twitch in pain. And, of course, moving makes everything ache and new pains sear you horribly.

It is day 283 of the 26th year in the pit. You wouldn't know this if it weren't for... For Alastair.

Every time he sees you, he smiles that devilish grin and tips your chin up for a kiss- that is, if you still have a chin that day. His voice is silky and oily. Hearing him talk makes you shudder, and talking with him makes you feel dirty. But you can't really do anything about it, since you are the one suspended in midair, and he is the one floating there, leaning over you. Blood spatters his body and there are chunks of flesh- obviously from others- sticking to his skin. It's disgusting, and makes you gag.

But you can't do shit about it.

You swear that one day you'll gank him. You'll give him a painful death, draw it out the way he draws this out. Ask him with a smile on your face if he wants out.

When he begs, you'll keep going.

Unlike now.

"Do you want out Dean? All you have to do is torture- It'll be the most fun you've ever had! You can finally let out all that anger." His eyes glitter in the low lighting, and he presses another kiss to your jaw. You give him a look that seems to communicate your answer- same as always. " _Shove it up your ass_ ".

He tuts, and presses a kiss to your forehead. You gag again, it seems Alastair is wearing a string of human ears around his neck.

The motion causes you to whimper in pain and- unwillingly- bury your face in his neck. You instsantly recoil, but he still catches the movement.

When Alastair goes to leave, he wears an even larger smile on his face. When your body is knit back together by unknown forces, the screams around you are louder.

The pain is horrible. How can anyone stand this? How can you?

Four years later your are blind to the things that made you say no.

Your soul feels old, it is aching. Weary. You want to rest- You deserve to rest.

When you see Alastair, he is smiling less than usual. He's getting a tad impatient. He wants you. He wants you to join him out there, become a monster like him.

All he gets out is "Dean," before you gasp "yes". He looks surprised, pleased. The chains in you just disappear, and you start to hoarsely scream for half a second before he catches you.

You hate him. You hate yourself. You hardly remember Sammy, but what little you do, you treasure.

The moment you are capable of standing, floating on your own, you glare at Alastair. He smiles, presses a kiss to your forehead, and spins you, aiming you at this man.

You don't know him. He doesn't know you. Alastair murmurs in your ear that he was a child molester.

 _Oh._ You want to kill that man. You feel even more hatred swell up poisonously inside you, and all of your previous hatred is directed at him. He touched kids. He did bad things to innocents.

You remember, for a moment, Sammy. When he was little, he was the cutest kid- what kind of horrible person did that? What kind of person saw someone that little, and- and-

You are only vaguely aware that you have moved, and completely unaware of his screaming. Your hands are digging into his intestines, ripping him apart. You are aware, however, that you are hissing under your breath about what a monster he is, your voice slowly growning to a shout. When he is little more than a meat suit stretched with bronze hooks, you back away, breathing heavily.

Clapping is heard behind you, and Alastair leans around you, over your shoulder. "Would you like me to bring him back so you can do it a second time?" His grin is more devilish than you have ever seen it.

Breathlessly nodding, he makes it happen. Child Molester Asshole dude is back within minutes, and you are right there waiting.

You torture just him, over and over again, for the first year or so. You do not tire, and you only grow stronger. You refuse to leave the pit, and it's only a little while before Alastair trusts you to leave you to your own devices.

You learn this man's name is Jake. After that, each time he dies, you grin and hiss "That's what you get when you hurt kids, Jake."

After you're finally done with him, you ask Alastair about the other souls. You ask for all the child molesters in one area- You are filled with rage and lust to see their blood. He kisses you on the mouth hard, and agrees. It's known as your area, and any time you see demons other than Alastair, they smile.

They know who you are. They know what you're doing.

You may be infamous, but apparently not as infamous as you thought.

You have tortured child molesters for five years, and you are exhausted.

You rarely take breaks. You just alternate to another one of them when one is coming alive again.

You collapse in the middle of one nasty motherfucker- he raped, abused, murdered a hundred kids. A hundred. In a twenty year period, over thirteen countries. You hate everything about him, and you just know that you cannot finish.

Alastair catches you. You give him a half smile, and find you do not hate him as much. You save the hatred for those in your are of the pit, for otherwise you would grow this tired much more often and be unable to punish as many.

You are set down a little ways away from the pit and you realize- this is the first time you've left that horrible place. You got used to the stench, the gore. Hell, you've been the one causing it lately. The hounds roaming underneath the chains- way underneath the chains- love you. Once a demon who you vaguely know to be nicknamed Dan pulled you down after a particularly messy punishment, and there were three hell hounds feasting on the droppings.

They came to you, gruesome tails wagging and panting. You let out a breathy chuckle and petted one.

Then, keeping them in mind when you left, made sure to drop extra viscera down.

But that was then and this is now and you are laying back on Alastair's bed, slowly. It's comfortable, and weirdly so... Huh.

Alastair is smiling at you. You smile back, a little bit. He moves from the doorway to sit on the bed beside you.

"You have a lot of promise, Dean." The words are smooth on his tongue, and remind you of an earlier time, how you used to feel disgusting when he talked.

"Promise for what, Alastair?" Your voice cracks in the middle of his name, and it occurs to you that you haven't been talking very much lately. That'll just have to change.

"Becoming a great demon. You know, if you made friends with higher ups- Say, for instance, me and Lilith, you could skip being black-eyed and go straight to red, even yellow eyes!"

You just stare at him for a moment. "Me, a demon? Making deals? Nah, I think I'll pass."

"That wasn't the only option. Imagine being a yellow eyed demon, an having an army." You swallow. "Oh, now you are thinking. Good. Imagine having to answer only to me, Lilith, and Lucifer himself."

"Imagine it."

He is leaning down to kiss you, and you aren't moving. The kiss is slow, tender. Alastair, the Demon Executioner, is kissing you slowly, tenderly.

And you aren't stopping him.

You don't care what you kill in the pit anymore. After the moment you and Alastair shared a while back, you promised to think about it and the next day, was gifted with a battle ax. You assume it is because you were being sincere, and still are unsure is you are wrong.

You love it when the souls in the pit scream. Men and women who did horrible things, you torture them the same way. You no longer care what they did, because this is hell and nothing matters here except for how much fun you have while doing it.

You have a room now. Special gift from lover boy, you guess. It's small and still kind of shitty, but atleast it was better than some of the motels you've stayed in over the years. And it even comes with a free demon! All you have to do is kiss him and say that you need more time to think over the offer.

You wonder when the time will con that you will say yes to Alastair. Say yes to him when the kisses get heated. Become a demon.

It is, after all, already starting a bit.

Back when you were human, girls and boys alike were fascinated with your gorgeous green eyes. Some girls complained that boys always had prettier eyes than them and that it wasn't fair. You would always tell her to suck it up and give her a charming grin. Thinking back, you did that a lot. Too many meaningless one night stands. But the. Again, every time you loved a girl enough to stay, Dad would make you leave.

Back to the point, your eyes. Green. Pretty. Right? You weren't do sure anymore. They were darkening. By now the irises were pure black, and not-so-slowly expanding. Every time you looked in the mirror they seemed bigger. And, with each day, you looked more and more like that demon dream you.

Alastair is very warm. His eyes are fixed upon you, and his lips are parted slightly. You are pressed against a wall, finally worn down. With one leg wrapped around his waist and both arms hooked around his neck, pressed flushed against him in a position you'd had many a girl over the years, it's hard to think. His forehead is pressed against yours, and his eyes filled with lust. "Please" he gasps. Breathlessly, you nodded, pull him in for another kiss.

He stumbles to the bed and you go with him and when you fall into the blood-stained sheets, it's with a low chuckle. He kisses down your neck, into the collar of your button-up. You feel hands mumbling for your jeans' zipper, and you gasp when he palms you.

His lips find yours and you moan, the noise swallowed by his mouth as it works yours. Your pants are off soon, and boxers follow soon after. Then his suit jacket, tie, shirt, dress pants.

His hands roam and become acquainted with your body as your back arches and hips jerk up, moaning wantonly.

Prep for sex is a loud blur, and then there is a dick sliding in and you are leaving long red marks on his back with your dull nails, reacting just the way he wants you to.

You have been out of the pit for roughly nine and a half years. Last night Alastair told you that in just five years, you can skip ahead to a red-eyed demon. Lilith still doesn't like you, but she is atleast willing to tolerate you.

And then... Something happens, and you are raised from perdition.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't made it to the part where Castile rescues him from perdition yet, I apologize. I might edit it then? But anyways, tell me what you think of it?


End file.
